


Almost Poetical

by Lady_Of_Paper_7



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bickering, Comfort/Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Endearments, Established Relationship, Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Fluff, Funny, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannigram - Freeform, Happy Ending, Hugging, Kissing, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Love, Murder Husbands, Romance, Silly, Sweet, Tenderness, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, Worried Will Graham, adoration, loving relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:35:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22654849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Of_Paper_7/pseuds/Lady_Of_Paper_7
Summary: “When was the last time you got any kind of check-up anyway?”“Two weeks before I retired as a surgeon”“Are you serious?”“I lead quite a healthy lifestyle”, Hannibal pointed out, pursing his lips when his husband snorted out loud at that, “Ido”“Sure”Hannibal huffed again, face rather pinched now.“O come on now”, Will said, placing one hand over his husband’s.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 19
Kudos: 288





	1. “Till death do us part then”

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own either characters, people or backstories. The only thing that I did was come up with semi-creative plots and ideas to put (already established and beloved) characters in and write them down, most of the time to come up with happy endings.

„You have to admit, it‘s kind of ironic really – poetical you might even say”, Will said, trying his very best not to let the laugh, that had wanted to get out ever since they’d left the doctor’s office earlier that day, be heard in his voice.

Never mind that Hannibal was far too adept at reading faces – especially Will’s – for his attempt do anything really. Which only made it funnier - for Will that is.

“Please do not test me right now, Will”, Hannibal sighed around the hand he was covering his face with. His voice came out tired, almost mellow.

At this point Will allowed himself to laugh, but it sounded much softer than usually as he crossed towards the armchair his husband had sunken into after their return. Hannibal made a soft ‘oof’ sound when Will plopped himself down in his lap, turned to face him, slung both arms around Hannibal’s neck and pressed a kiss to his jawline.

“Am I disrupting your pity party?”, he asked when Hannibal fit his left arm around him, holding him close.

“Yes”, he carefully rested his right arm on Will’s legs. The cast would come off in a couple of weeks.

“I knew I should have just set it myself”, he continued darkly.

“Don’t be stupid”, Will murmured into the crook of his neck

“I am _not_ being stupid”, Hannibal insisted with as much tension in his voice as his arms and upper body, refusing to wince at the sharp pain that shot through his right forearm.

“Yes, you are”, Will ignored the growl in his husband’s voice, “just because you wouldn’t have known that your cholesterol’s too high, doesn’t mean it wouldn’t have been true”

Hannibal huffed, turning his head away to contemplate the remains of the bookshelf on the opposite wall instead of his husband. He had decided to reorganize the shelves a couple of days ago – and that had been when he’d discovered that the new library ladder had not been properly fastened to the ceiling high shelves. Attempting to break his fall with only his right arm whilst instinctually cradling the books to his chest with the other one might not have been the best idea. Which Will had told – half-yelled at - him as he’d, alarmed from the loud crash that had echoed through the house, rushed into the room, only to find Hannibal lying on the floor amidst several dozen heavy tombs and the remainder of both bookshelf and bookshelf-ladder.

After a moment of starring at the scene in shock, and involuntarily thinking both that _yes, maybe this was the way for Hannibal Lector to go, killed by a bookshelf,_ and _no, nothing, nothing could ever really hurt, never mind kill Hannibal – could it? A task as simple and mundane as reorganizing their library least of all,_ he had all but run to his husband. Said husband had been currently letting go of the armful of books he’d been clutching close and attempted to push himself back up, hissing when his right arm gave in and black dots danced in front of his eyes.

It would only take him a moment to regain his senses and see to the fracture – his arm _was_ sticking out in the most peculiar of ways, he had to admit – but he had gotten used to seeing to his injuries himself over the last decades. Before that moment had passed however, Will had started talking, asking whether he, Hannibal, had hit his head and he, Will, should call an ambulance – in Hannibal’s professional opinion – and where his husband was hurting. Without thinking, Hannibal had tried to calm him, only indicated his arm and by the time he had thought better of it, his husband had dragged him to and into his car and driven him to the doctor’s. Despite Hannibal’s protests that is, which had died down somewhat when Will had almost calmly explained to him that _no, he would not help him set the bone at home._

That had been the day before yesterday and today they’d gone back to get the results from the routine tests they’d run the last time.

“ _Doctor_ Lecter”, Will added for emphasis and Hannibal finally chuckled.

“I am quite aware, thank you _Mr_. Lecter”

It had turned out that Hannibal did not enjoy the part of playing the patient – which Will in turn found extremely funny, after he’d been assured that his husband was, aside from the semi-clean fracture fine.

“When was the last time you got any kind of check-up anyway?”

“Two weeks before I retired as a surgeon”

“Are you serious?”

“I lead quite a healthy lifestyle”, Hannibal pointed out, pursing his lips when his husband snorted out loud at that, “I _do_ ”

“ _Sure_ ”

Hannibal huffed again, face rather pinched now.

“O come on now”, Will said, placing one hand over his husband’s – and it would take a long time before he’d get used to that word and could say it without the most stupid, giddy smile – jowl and gently turned Hannibal’s head to face him again before he brushed their lips together, stroking the pad of his thumb along Hannibal’s jawline when he kissed him back.

“I still don’t think it’s funny – never mind poetical”, Hannibal said when they pulled apart, leaning his forehead against Will’s.

“It’s not the end of the world either, you know”, Will pointed out in a soft tone of voice, “it’s really not”

“Not strictly speaking, no, I guess it’s not”,

“You just have to make some adjustments and you’re good at that”, Will said and, when he didn’t receive a reaction to that, added; “Will you continue moping around for the rest of the day?”

“Maybe until late afternoon”, Hannibal corrected gracefully, “when I’d normally start to cook”, he added, less gracefully, “which apparently won’t happen in the near future”

“I can help if you want, or I could do the cooking for a bit”

“Meaning that we would life off cereal from now on?”

“O”, said Will with a glint in his eyes, “I’m sure the convenient store’s still open; I’ll gladly get some-“

“Don’t you say it”

“-some nice cheap instant meals – the canned and frozen ones that are packaged in tons of plastic”

“You are a cruel, cruel man”

“And you aren’t?”, Will laughed, shifting to lean more comfortably against Hannibal’s chest.

“Not on that level”

“No, not on that level”, Will agreed, kissing his husband’s cheek, “I could help you go through your cookbooks later if you want – there’s bound to be something in there”

People kept giving all kinds of books on baking and cooking and food in general to the doctor for Christmas and his birthday - on every opportunity really - and they’d been piling up in a separate shelf in the kitchen over the last years, “I know you don’t like it but there’s little harm in trying something new”

“Little harm”, Hannibal repeated darkly.

“Little harm”, Will affirmed, placing his hand over his husband’s, careful not to touch the cast itself.

“I’m glad you’re okay, you know that right?”, he asked, squeezing his fingers.

“I do”, Hannibal kissed his husband’s hair and hugged him closer with his unharmed arm, “you were probably right to make me go”, he sighed, “and to not let me ignore that”

“’Till death do us part’, remember? And I don’t plan on making it easy for him”

“That might be the sweetest thing you ever told me”

“We’re still having salad for dinner”, Will told his husband’s skin, still smiling and Hannibal fought the urge to roll his eyes, instead carefully moved his thumb to hook around Will’s.

“Till death do us part then”


	2. Pinnacle Of Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you alright?”, Hannibal eventually dropped his novel onto the end table and instead placed his left hand over the back of his husband’s head when Will finished sliding one leg over his, at this point lying half on top of him.
> 
> “Why shouldn’t I be?”, Will muttered into the red wool, burying his face a little deeper in Hannibal’s chest.
> 
> “Because the last time I checked, I was no hillside for you to mount and you were no mountain goat”

Much, much later that day, they retired to the lounge that was looking out over the sea. The pale moon that was rising on the in black night sky filled up the whole glass wall and gave them the most beautiful view from the plush couch that stood opposite the window in the middle of the room.

Hannibal reclined against one arm of the couch, head propped up against several pillows and Will’s head resting on his chest, over his heart, fingers idly playing with the hem of Hannibal’s thick, knitted pullover, burrowing in the soft crimson wool from time to time. He had carefully draped his right arm around his husband’s waist, holding his book with his left hand. The pad of his thumb rubbed little circles into Will’s hip through his soft flannel shirt as he read, ducking his head from time to time to brush his lips against Will’s hairline, while Will continuously pushed closer to him.

“Are you alright?”, he eventually dropped his novel onto the end table and instead placed his left hand over the back of his husband’s head when Will finished sliding one leg over his, at this point lying half on top of him.

“Why shouldn’t I be?”, Will muttered into the red wool, burying his face a little deeper in Hannibal’s chest.

The room was, apart from the moonlight coming in through the windows and the brass stand lamp’s beam behind their heads, completely dark at this point. Hannibal had figured that Will was probably tired - he usually got clingier when he was exhausted or sleepy - but that usually meant he’d curl into Hannibal and doze while he read or drew, not try to climb on top of or inside his husband.

“Because the last time I checked, I was no hillside for you to mount and you were no mountain goat”

Will went still, no longer worrying the sweater between his fingers, voice quiet and rough, “sorry”

“I did not say I minded, Will”, Hannibal hugged him tighter until he felt his husband relax again, basically pulling Will on top of him the rest of the way and ignoring the flare of pain that shot through his forearm in protest.

Will gave no answer, merely shifted and nudged the top of his head into the crook of Hannibal’s neck who softly laughed and kissed his messy curls. Since they’d moved into the new house, Will had started growing out his hair a bit longer, knowing full well how Hannibal adored a headful of curls he could bury his face in and almost twirl around his fingers.

“I just”, Will sighed, voice tight in his throat, “I was just worried”

“About what exactly?”

“This morning”, Will said lowly, “the test results they called you about”

The doctor they’d gone to was an old acquaintance of Hannibal’s and her receptionist had phoned them this morning, urging them to come over as soon as they could to discuss the test results that had come back, “I thought”, he stopped again, restarted again, “ _I thought I’d lose you_ ”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want you to worry about me being worried about you – I thought, you had enough on your plate as it were”, Will drew in a shaky breath, pressing his face against his husband’s smooth neck and squeezing his eyes shut.

He had been fine all day, _both_ _of them_ had been fine since they’d returned from the doctor’s; he’d even - albeit gently - made fun of his husband until he stopped wallowing in self-pity, and it _had been_ funny, the whole affair, once Will had been able to breathe freely again. The tightness in chest and throat, that had appeared when they’d driven to the doctors, had finally eased up and in the end he’d all but forgotten how worried that call had left him, how scarred he’d been. Until now that is.

“I’m never too worried for you to talk to me, Will”, Hannibal said softly, his breath stirring a brown curl or two, “and, just so you know it; in my experience colleagues do not tell each other to come in to discuss test results if something’s really wrong – if there’s an emergency, they give the most important details straight away. Mary-Ann just asked her secretary to squeeze my appointment in today because we’ve known each other for close to fifteen years now”

“I didn’t know”, Will said lowly against his husband’s skin, breathing in his cologne.

The cologne, his own was matched to; a month after they’d officially had gotten together, Hannibal had asked Will to accompany him to the perfumery where he purchased his own scents and Will had, after a hot minute of blinking at his lover in bemused incomprehension, agreed when he’d seen how happy it would make Hannibal – and the whole afternoon he’d spent being sprayed and dabbed at with various concoctions, that after some point all started to smell the same to him, had been worth it for the fun Hannibal had obviously had. Will also had to admit that the scent they’d eventually settled on was much nicer than what he’d been using up until then.

The fact that Hannibal, who had always had a thing for pressing kisses to sensitive skin of Will’s neck, seemed not to be able to tear his lips away from his lover’s neck now, was just the icing on the cake and almost made Will forget to worry about just how much they’d just spent on a couple of ounces in a mock-unadorned green bottle-blue bottle. But Hannibal had said it matched his eyes as Will had brought the topic up and kissed the corner of his mouth right then and there in the tiny shop – and Will had almost dropped half a year’s salary on the polished black marble.

“I am aware; I just thought, I’d mention it, not that it’s important now”

Hannibal’s hand started rubbing his husband’s back, pressing down a little harder when Will’s shoulders tensed up on instinct and moving more lightly when the tension started seeping from his muscles.

He allowed himself a moment to marvel at the fact, that Will let himself be handled like this, let himself be touched and hugged and kissed, even initiating physical contact like it was the most natural thing in the world when they both knew that until a relatively short time ago, he would not have permitted even close acquaintances to touch any part of his body, never mind reach out to touch anyone himself. He felt Will shift on top of him, within his arms, and turn his head to the side to talk more clearly, messy curls tickling Hannibal’s chin.

“And you don’t have to worry; Firstly, I’m fine, secondly I’m far too fond of being alive to not”, he heaved an involuntary sigh, “adjust my diet accordingly, and thirdly, I love you far too much to risk not spending the rest of my life with you – and to not drag that rest out as long as I can”

“It’s amazing, that you can phrase such a sweet sentiment in a way that makes it sound utterly self-serving, you know that?”

“I didn’t want to imply-“

“That I’m not just as, probably literally, crazy about you?”

“Maybe”

Will didn’t have to see his husband’s face to know that he was grinning that broad grin that lit up his whole face, and instead blindly searched for Hannibal’s hand, squeezing it between his own fingers.

“But my point still stands”, Hannibal continued, carefully placing his free hand over the nape of his husband’s neck, slipping it forwards to touch his jaw and gently tilt his head backwards to look at him, “You won’t get rid of me that easily, my love”

He held his husband’s gaze until Will pushed himself up and forward, crashing – there really was no other word for it – his lips against Hannibal’s and bringing both hands up to cup Hannibal’s face, knees bearing his weight between Hannibal’s thighs, breath coming out in short, heavy bouts, almost sobs.

Hannibal did not bat an eyelash and kissed him back just as hungrily, left arm tight against his husband’s back and fingers digging into the small of his back as Will gasped against his mouth, right hand carefully placed over the back of Will’s head and stroking the soft brown curls. He felt Will’s fingers tight on his cheeks and jaw, moving backwards into his hair and holding his head close and in place, his movements gentle all the while but urgent, bordering on desperate. He was never rough with Hannibal, nor Hannibal with him.

After some time, Hannibal started smoothing his left hand up and down his husband’s back again, counting the vertebras with gentle tabs and connecting one to the other with formless patterns he drew around them with the tips of his fingers until he reached the base of Will’s neck and let his hand resume its journey downwards, re-mapping the exquisite, albeit still stiff, landscape of his back as they kissed.

After some more time, Hannibal pulled up his legs and planted his bare feet on either side of his husband. His knees rose up on either side of Will’s hips, pushing close and pulling him closer still and Will made a half-broken sound against his lips as he, experimentally at first, rolled his hips against Hannibal’s, who softy echoed both, movement and sound.

The tips of Will’s fingers tickled his husband’s skin as he stroked back his hair, tugging it behind his ears again and again when the soft streaks kept slipping forward again. The tip of his nose bumped against the side of Hannibal’s, as he shifted his weight again, finally finding an angle that made it easier to both, move against his husband and hold himself up. Not that Hannibal would mind bearing his weight.

Apart from a moment during which Hannibal would catch and adjust his breath, it wouldn’t make a difference - and Will would be lying if he’d say, that he wasn’t the least bit turned on by the fact that his husband was strong enough to carry him around with close to no effort if he felt like it, which he did from time to time; just swooped Will off his feet when they were by themselves, or lifted him onto higher surfaces by the hips to look up at him as if he was looking at the full moon on a clear night, pupils blown wide behind the smooth brown streaks that sometimes fell into his face, before he brought their lips together.

Being with Hannibal made feeling beautiful too easy to even think about it, made feeling seen and worshiped almost natural. And worshipping Will was exactly how Hannibal was spending every moment they shared.

A couple of weeks after they’d gotten together, Will had had a revelation, standing barefoot in the kitchen and drying off the silverware, Hannibal kept handing him with dishwater-wrinkled fingers and his own hands had seized moving for a second.

“Did you know”, he had asked Hannibal faux-casually as he’d placed a, now dry, spoon in the drawer with the others and accepted a fork from his lover, “that I can’t actually remember ever being truly happy” before I had this with you?

He had almost added the second part but thought better of it; Hannibal seldom needed him to spell out what he meant and, at this point, doing so almost felt like he was insulting the good doctor.

“It wouldn’t surprise me, if you told me”, Hannibal’s hands had continued lathering the dishes, but his eyes were on Will now, gaze neither faltering nor flickering from one point to the other, as they’d done up until now, when he’d kept sneaking glances at the man beside him as he’d worked, “is there a particular reason, you decided to bring this up now or does drying up cutlery make you so miserable that it reminded you of that fact?”

“Talking to you is like jumping off the edge of a swimming pool only to find that there’s not a half a foot fall towards to water but a fifty-foot fall with uncertain destination, has anyone ever told you that?”

“In some way or another”, Hannibal had half-shrugged, eyes still fixed on Will’s who, for the most part, managed not to look away too obviously, “although no one has ever used that exact way of phrasing their complaint”

“I’m not complaining”, a beat, the clink of another piece of cutlery finding its place, “I actually enjoy that”

Brown eyes had held his gaze, searching – for the lie behind the words perhaps, for a false bottom beneath, but they came up with nothing, no matter how deeply they looked, and Will had not been entirely sure whether the smile he had thought he’d seen out of the corner of his eyes had been there or not.

“Your enjoyment”, and yes, now Hannibal’s lips had definitely curled into a grin, “aside; what was it you wanted to tell me?”

“That I’m making new memories right now”, Will had said, almost managing to hold Hannibal’s – who had some time ago been Dr. Lecter but that had been before the shared dinners and drinks had led into shared nights and beds – gaze, almost. There was no other person whose eyes he could even imagine, meeting as openly as Hannibal’s and as strange as a feeling that was, there was nothing, he would trade it in for.

“Are you now”, Hannibal had handed him a short ladle along with his words, voice collected and polite as always, “how interesting”

Will had not yet noticed that he’d received the last item to be put away and that Hannibal had been rinsing and drying off his own hands, until he had felt them, pale and still slightly wrinkled from the washing up he’d done, on his own forearms and wrists, guiding them to drop the ladle approximately where it belonged in the drawer, before his hands had lifted Will’s onto his shoulders, his own hands slipping further up Will’s arms and shoulders, towards his back and down until they’d crossed and wrapped around the small of his back, pulling him close and against him.

“Interesting, yes”, Will had echoed lamely around the lump in his throat, a lump that did not go away when Hannibal dipped his head and kissed the side of his neck. His warm breath had ghosted over Will’s skin, causing it to break out in goosebumps, “I- I just thought you’d like to know”

“Has anyone ever told _you_ ”, Hannibal had stressed the personal pronoun as he’d pulled back far enough to see Will’s face again, “that you’re making it extremely difficult for one to properly seduce you when you keep saying the sweetest things? It does not help one concentrate on the task at hand, you know”

“I’m sorry”, Will had not been able to help himself but had started to laugh at that, only laughing harder, when Hannibal’s mock-stern expression had changed and mirrored his, shaking his head and closing his eyes, hands still holding onto Hannibal’s shoulder, “I’ll be serious, do go on”

Hannibal had kissed him properly then, resting their foreheads together, when they’d pulled apart for a moment to catch their breath.

“And I don’t see, why you’d need to concentrate so hard on that anyway”, Will had been about as surprised at hearing these words pass through his lips as his lover, “you being in vaguely close proximity of me does the job just fine”

Hannibal had stilled against him for a moment, and, had he been a lesser version of himself, would have blushed. Instead he’d said;

“Shall we work on adding to these memories you were speaking of then?”

Back then, they’d managed to make their way up to Hannibal’s bedroom, which had in time become _their_ bedroom, even before they’d moved. The room at the top of the new house, which basically was the enlarged attic that covered the whole floor, apart from the space their bathroom and closet took up, had never been anything else but _theirs_ , but by the time Will had tossed Hannibal’s clothes to his own onto the floor, there was little thought spared on relocating upstairs; minds too caught up with the sweet-hot throng of _now-please-yes-more-there-o-_ god _-please-I-can’t_ and hands too busy clutching onto love-hot skin and hair as hips moved and toes curled, heads were thrown back in extasy and pleasure.

“As”, Hannibal continued some time later, almost managing to speak as calmly and clearly as he would have if his body had not been on fire and his heart not in his throat, Will’s sweat-slick body still nestled into his own in the most intimate of ways, “as I was saying”, he got out almost smoothly, until his husband shifted again, on purpose, Hannibal was almost willing to bet, and he had to bit down on his bottom lip to neither curse out loud or moan into the tiny space between them, spent as his body was, oversensitive, “there’s nothing for you to worry about”

“Are you saying that now, because you’re banking on the fact that this”, he kissed Hannibal’s chest, “made me lose the ability to retain a coherent train of thoughts?”

“I say it because it’s true”, Hannibal’s teeth re-sunk into the grooves they’d left in his lip earlier but he couldn’t quite fight off the grunt that escaped him, when Will pushed himself up, planted an elbow against his husband’s chest and looked into his face, “and partly, because of that, yes”, he admitted, exhaling loudly between his teeth.

“Well, it’s not as effective as you thought”

“Meaning”, Hannibal laughed at that, raising an eyebrow and pushing back Will’s sweat damp curls with his left hand, “I ought to step up my game when it comes to fucking?”

“I’d definitely”, Will paused for a moment, blinking deliberately slowly down at his husband and fighting the urge not to honest to god giggle at hearing his husband curse, “love to see how’d you manage _that_ , but feel free to surprise me”, he dipped his head again, but this time brushed his lips against Hannibal’s and kissing his answer off his lips.

It was true, that the last hour had not managed to wipe all worries and fears from his mind, but it had pushed them away far enough for him, to focus on anything besides them,

“I will”, his husband had hummed against Will’s lips, “but for now I’d like to just bathe and lie down in our actual bed”

“I don’t think I can move that much yet”, Will let himself collapse against Hannibal again, slipping both arms around his neck and hugging him as tightly as he could.

He could have fallen asleep right then and there and he knew Hannibal would, despite his grumbling and insistence that no one in their right might could possibly enjoy falling asleep in a state like this, eventually huff himself to sleep, both arms tight around Will’s hips and waist but he had to admit, he did see his husband’s point.

Hannibal merely snorted in return, ruffling his husband’s hair with his left hand.

“But it would be kind of gross to sleep like this, I guess”, Will eventually sighed, still making absolutely no move to get up.

“If you say so”, Hannibal said generously, and his husband couldn’t help himself but laugh into Hannibal’s chest.

“Yeah, I say so”, he sat up with an enormous mustering of will, still careful to untangle their bodies without giving his husband pain, and got to his feet, “come on then”, he extended a hand towards Hannibal who took it without hesitation.

Will had never really warmed up to pet-names; he got the concept and thought behind it, but he had never really seen the appeal. The fact that he’d never really been the type for any kind of romantic relationships, never mind ones that got serious enough to make him even consider sweet-talking like that had probably not helped but it wasn’t like he’d felt like he’d be missing out on anything.

Now though, as he squeezed Hannibal’s fingers between his own and, still as naked as the Wills in the particularly racy sketches that took shape under Hannibal’s capable hands when he was especially bored with the patient he was sitting with, and pulled Hannibal out of the room before he could pick up their clothes from the floor, and up to their bathroom, he just about added a particularly cheesy endearment, thought he could almost taste the overly sweet words on his tongue.

Hannibal had no such problems; he wasn’t abundantly using endearments, but he could, if he wanted to, call Will ‘love’ and ‘darling’, although just hearing Hannibal say his name made Will smile dopily, while something like ‘good Will, dear Will’ made his face heat up with an intensity that was more than laughable. He had made Hannibal promise not to do it with anyone around and despite the raised eyebrow he’d gotten along with the promise, he was sure, that Hannibal had seen his point – at the very latest after the next time, he’d had to leave for an early appointment and had kissed Will awake to say goodbye just before leaving and called him ‘mon cher’ whist doing so.

He _had_ _not_ made it to the appointment and instead had had to, very hurriedly, make a phone call, explaining his absence away with an unexpected emergency and cancelling the whole thing while Will had all but torn off the light blue suit he’d put on half an hour ago.

“That wasn’t so bad now, was it”, Hannibal murmured into Will’s hair one shower and one enormously long walk from bath- to bedroom later, tugging the blankets tight around himself and the warm body half on top of him, fighting off a yawn himself when Will merely gave a sleepy sound and tipped back his head far enough to squint up at his husband. His glasses would apparently spend the rest of the night on the couch table downstairs but there was just about nothing that would make either of them get up and get them right now.

“You’ll stay home tomorrow, right?”, he asked sleepily, words dragging over his lips like someone had tied weights to their feet.

“Yes”, Hannibal gently guided his husband’s head to rest against his chest again, letting his hand stay there and stroke Will’s cheek with the tips of his fingers, “apparently I’m on leave till the end of the week, which is ridiculous-”

“Which makes me really happy”, Will cut him off sleepily, nuzzling into his husband’s hand.

“That’s alright then”, Hannibal smiled in the darkness.

“I thought it might be”, Will murmured before he fell silent and Hannibal had almost fallen asleep himself by the time, Will opened his mouth again, not very far in the quiet night but far enough to let the words out; “you know, you’re probably”, he cut himself off, heat spreading along his neck and face, “you’re probably the love of my life, right?”

“I had my suspicions”, Hannibal said, managing to keep his laughter in check until his husband, albeit gently, slapped his chest in the darkness, “it is, after all, fitting that such a feeling is mutually shared”

“You smooth bastard”, Will said around the warmth that was uncurling in his stomach and chest and which, for once, had nothing to do with the perpetual state awkwardness he had never quite managed to shake off for most of his life, turning his head again until he could make out the faint outline of his husband’s head in the dark.

“People keep saying”, Hannibal shrugged, “and I have yet to disagree”

“You’re so awful”

“But you love me, yes?”

“Yes”, Will sighed, rolling his eyes even as stretched to kiss his husband, “for some reason I do”

“And once again we match”, Hannibal hummed against Will’s lips, “and I’m the luckiest man in the world because of it”

“You really think, _that_ is the pinnacle of luck the universe has dealt you?”

“Of course, I do; if the price for loving and being loved by you were a lifetime of pain, I’d gladly pay it”

“Some people would argue that that’s exactly what it is, you know”

“Stupid people”, Hannibal waved him off, “why should their uninformed opinions matter to me in any way?”

“Am glad they don’t”, the last word almost got lost in the huge yawn that forced Will’s lips apart and he laid his head back down against his husband’s shoulder, placing one hand over his heart and smoothing his fingers over the warm skin.

“Go to sleep now, my love”, Hannibal pressed his lips against the top of Will’s head, “I’ll be right here, when you wake up”

“You better be”, Will grumbled into his husband’s chest, as he drifted off.

“Of course, a promise is a promise”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...well that arted out somewhat; I hope you don't mind too much.
> 
> I also hope you enjoyed this and thank you for reading <3
> 
> (I might still add some more to this - and it will be just as toothrottingly sweet)


	3. Still way too in love to care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It really is beautiful out here”, Will said softly as they came to a stop right at the edge of the water, the first little waves washing ice-cold over their toes.
> 
> “May I point something out?”
> 
> Will turned his head to look up into his husband’s brown eyes, raising an eyebrow; “Go ahead”
> 
> “It’s not quite as beautiful as you”
> 
> “You”, Will took a deep breath, turning back to look out over the foaming waves, “can be such a sap”
> 
> “I am aware”, Hannibal slung one arm around Will’s waist and hugged him close, his hair blew across his face and his thin lips were pulled up in a bright smile, “that doesn’t make it less true in any case”

The house sat alone at the foot of a cliff and was looking out over the ocean. Three stories between almost black soil and blue sky if you counted the attic which served as one huge bedroom with ensuite bathroom and closet, two thirds of which was taken up by Hannibal’s wardrobe. Four stories if you counted the basement as well. Almost the entire side of the house that was facing the seaside was made of thick, clear glass that lit up every room as long as the sun or full moon was up. The rest of the walls were made up of sturdy, sun-bleached wood and windows with white shutters, that banged against the house’s outside when the wind grew stronger.

They had found it via an old friend of Hannibal’s, – which had started to become a thing for them even then - had taken one tour through it and immediately bought it, drawing up contracts and plans on the very same day.

It really was amazing, what difference moving and planning with Hannibal – or rather, watching him do all the planning and grinning quietly to himself at seeing him so happy and in his element – made to moving by himself, which had basically always boiled down to Will taking the least terrible, halfway affordable place and praying that it was furnished and not in the worst area imaginable. He had not even really minded Hannibal keep all bills and contracts in his office without sharing them with him – he could imagine that only the best of the very best had made its way into their new home anyway, and that the zeros at the end of each figure had probably not been in short supply. He’d found that he did not really care.

Sometime after they’d moved, Will had started setting up a workshop for himself, more spacious than what he’d ever dreamt of having, almost more spacious than the shed he and his father had worked in. His husband had insisted, he’d do it ‘properly’ – which had boiled down to getting everything he wanted and could possibly ever need without worrying about money.

That too was becoming a thing, just forgetting about money and doing what he wanted – which they both knew would never really sink in but Hannibal still insisted that they were about as well off as they ever could possibly be and that it would help no one if Will made compromises on things he needed and ended up with poor quality because of it.

\---

_“You are spoiling the life out of me”, Will had murmured into his husband’s hair one evening after all orders had been placed and everything, he had been able to get locally, had been purchased._

_Hannibal’s head had rested heavily on his shoulder and his hair had still been damp from the shower he’d taken after his swim. He’d still been smelling off citrus and cinnamon from his shampoo and soap and his lids had been heavy over his eyes, breathing slow and even._

_“Wanna hear me say sorry?”, he had yawned back, snuggling further into Will’s chest without thinking and went still the next second._

_“Terribly sorry”, he had sat up more neatly, mortified, “I meant-“_

_“What”, Will had grinned, “was that? Aside from ridiculously cute I mean?”_

_His husband seldom was relaxed enough to slip up and forget about decorum all together. Not even when he was barefoot and in his husband’s arms, wearing his silk pyjamas after having showered._

_“And don’t go saying something like ‘inappropriate’”, his arms had still been wound about Hannibal’s waist, so he’d simply tugged and pulled him back into his chest, holding him fast until he had laid back down._

_Hannibal had kept quiet, willing his face not to flush, something he had not had to work that hard on in years._

_“Will you never talk to me again now?”, Will had asked, still softly chuckling, nuzzling his nose in his husband’s smooth hair._

_“Not in the near future, no”, Hannibal had muttered without looking up and Will had wrapped his legs around his husband’s as well, kissing the top of his head._

_“That’s too bad”, Will’s fingers had danced up and down his husband’s back, “I’m not ready to never hear my favourite accent again”_

_His grin had widened when he had heard Hannibal laugh at that._

_“I won’t do that to you then”, his voice had come out muffled against Will’s chest and he’d returned the embrace, “just like I won’t stop ‘spoiling’ you; I like providing you with the things you need”_

_“Things I want, you mean”_

_“Tomayto, tomahto”_

_“You’re sweet”, Will’s hands had returned from Hannibal’s back to the nape of his neck and had now slipped forwards to cup his jaw and gently tilt back his head far enough to kiss the corner of his mouth._

_“Why should we not fulfil our wishes, you and me?”_

_“And spent a fortune on tools I’m not entirely sure I remember how to handle anymore?”_

_“I have complete confidence in your”, Hannibal had raised one eyebrow, “procedural memory” and Will had snorted out loud._

_“And you like the idea of being the sole provider in a relationship”_

_“I like the idea of enabling my husband to do what he wants with his time instead of unnecessarily torturing himself over FBI-cases and in front of students who care less about what he’s teaching them than about how ridiculously handsome he looks when he actually wears a tie and shirt”, Hannibal had corrected him softly._

_“You’re not wearing one right now either, mister”, Will had reminded him but there had been no sting to his words, as he had threaded his fingers through Hannibal’s, for once, loose brown streaks. Even he seldomly got to see Hannibal just launching about without being dressed and styled to the nines – not that, in Will’s opinion, any of that was necessary for his husband to be the most beautiful person in the room, but he might be biased on that accord, “not that I’m complaining”, he had added absentmindedly, tracing the pad of his right thumb along Hannibal’s jaw and down his neck until he had reached the collar of his husband’s pyjamas, taking the smooth burgundy fabric between thumb and forefinger and rubbing it between them, like said husband did when he tested new fabric before buying._

_He’d still been wearing his baggy t-shirt and the hems of his jeans had been so frayed, they had looked almost entirely white as they had trailed over his bare ankles and feet. In his husband’s mind he’d been a sight to behold but, when was he not?_

_“Even though you’re usually so very pedantic about this sort of thing”_

_“Mhm”, Will had hummed, eyes almost obscured beneath his lids._

_He’d had already spent quite a considerable time being this close to his husband without having properly kissed him, which in of itself had been bordering on a miracle and had been promptly remedied._

_“Wait a second”, he had somehow managed to pull away from Hannibal far enough to speak, “what did you just say?”_

_Marriage really was not good for his mental capacities._

_“Which part do you want me to repeat?”_

_Will had not seen his smile, but he had been able to hear it in his husband’s voice._

_“Shut up”, he had pushed against Hannibal’s shoulder one second, and wrapped both arms around his neck the next, “I sometimes almost forget how sweet you can be”_

_“Which part makes you think that?”, Hannibal had repeated, holding his husband close._

_“All of it”_

_“That sounds about right”_

_“Not that your ego needs that boost”, Will had sighed before adding, “or any kind of strengthening really”_

_“Opposed to yours”_

_There had been no trace of an unspoken question mark anywhere near Hannibal’s statement, and yet_

_“Yeah, maybe”, Will shrugged, shifting into a slightly more comfortable position without letting go of his husband, “but I can live with that”_

_“Does being able to live with something equal happiness?”_

_“Do you remember when I asked you not to talk to me like I was your patient?”_

_“I remember agreeing to doing my best to avoid doing it anymore”_

_“Your best has seen better days”, Will remarked drily._

_“Maybe”_

_“Oh, definitely”, he insisted with a soft laugh, “but I’m still way too in love with you to care”_

_“Still”, Hannibal repeated, as if tasting out the word on his tongue and marvelling at its taste, yet to decide whether he liked it or not, “are you hoping for that to change anytime soon?”_

_“I’m way past hoping for that”_

\---

Hannibal sometimes returned home earlier in the evening to come by his husband’s shop floor when he was still working. He sometimes even drove slightly over the speed limit to get back as fast as he could, quietly opened the door to the workshop and just stood there, watching Will’s back as he worked. Watched him push back his damp hair with the back of his hand and smearing oil or woodchips across his forehead as he poured over his current project, bottom lip between his teeth and screwdriver between his dirty fingers. 

“Enjoying the view?”, Will would usually ask at some point without turning around and his husband would step up to him and wrap his arms around his waist from behind like he did today.

“I do indeed”, Hannibal told him between the kisses he pressed against the back and side of Will’s neck.

“Hannibal”, Will complained, pulling a face and trying to push his husband away with an elbow, “stop that, I’m gross”

“You’re perfect”

“I’m covered in grease and sweat; that’s gross for every normal person”

“Lucky thing I’m not normal then”, Hannibal laughed, kissing Will one last time before he let go.

His shirt was soaked through and dark at the back and beneath the arms. He’d spent all day in the shed and fought with the motor of Laura’s boot, who was the closest thing they had for a neighbour, living about a mile away. The day before, she had brought the boat over and ever since, the damn thing had been making things difficult. Every screw he’d wanted to lose put up more of a fight, than some motors he’d repaired in total and no part of the machinery run even remotely smoothly.

Will had to admit that she hadn’t been lying when she’d said that she didn’t remember the last time, the thing had worked properly when she’d been over for coffee the other day and their conversation had touched on what Will was doing while his husband was off at work and he’d told her.

\---

_The conversation he’d had with Jack, the one where he’d told Will that he maybe should go back to fixing boat motors, had been years ago and he had not been sure, whether he should actually take it up again. It had felt kind of like admitting defeat, but Hannibal had been right; even thinking about taking up work at the FBI, as a teacher or in the field made Will feel distinctly uncomfortable. And his husband had, once again been right when he’d said that there was no need for Will to take up work he didn’t like to make money which went against about anything Will’s life had prepared him for up until then._

_At first, he had taken up fishing again, made more flies than he could count, and they’d had fish for dinner at least three nights a week. He’d been this close to asking Hannibal whether they could get a dog, but he was aware that his husband disliked pets of any kind but would probably conceive if Will asked and he didn’t terribly want to do that. So, he’d read and gone for walks, had driven out to go fishing and did about everything he’d heard normal people enjoyed doing in their spare time._

_When they’d done the view of the house on the cliff, they’d come across the landing stage on the beach and had visited the nearby harbour where countless vessels of all shapes and sizes harboured and, as stupid as it sounded even to his own ears, his fingers had itched at the sight._

_Hannibal, of course, had been all ears, very innocently mentioning that he had always wanted to own a boat but had never been able to bring himself to buy one while he’d lived that far from the seaside. Which was a thing of the past now._

_As fate would have it, an elderly couple had kept a beautiful boat for sale. Big enough for two people to stay on comfortably and inlaid with gleaming, reddish wood and metal. It had been the most beautiful thing, albeit a bit roughed up, in the need of a new coat, some repairs and so on and so on. Nothing too big and nothing that couldn’t be fixed._

_It had made its way into Will’s shop floor and he had, day after day, spent all day there taking it apart, cleaning the parts, fixing and replacing the broken and rusted bits. More often than not, Hannibal had had to coax him out of there at the end of the day, after he’d had returned home._

_Every flick of the wrist had taken what felt like ages and half the time Will had felt like he was wearing thick, ungainly gloves, his every movement too clumsy and crude, especially when he’d tried to make tiny adjustments. Half the time he’d very much felt like slapping the whole thing down and just give up but with his husband he could count on the fact that explaining to him, why he’d given up would be about as tedious as continuing to fix up the boat._

_He was crazy about Hannibal – probably in more than one sense but be that as it may – he really was, but one of the downsides of first dating, then marrying a renowned psychiatrist was that you never got away with anything without talking about it. And sometimes, the alternative was just less trouble. From time to time Hannibal told him, that that was exactly what was wrong with people. Well, according to Hannibal there was a lot that was wrong with people, but it seemed like he was getting less worked up about it nowadays._

_Will had eventually gotten their boat fixed up and ready and Hannibal had renewed his boating license. Now, whenever they had time and the weather permitted it, they took it out. The couple that had sold them the boat was friends with about everybody in the area and Will and Hannibal had not exactly been the most inconspicuous newcomers, especially since Will liked spending his time at the harbour and beach, and they regularly went down to the sea together. Before long, another elderly couple had approached Will about their boat and they had been not the last to do it – it seemed like everybody in the area had one, even if they rarely used it – and he, after some hesitation, had agreed to fix it up._

_He could barely stand the proud grin on his husband’s face when he’d told him and whenever it came up in conversation afterwards._

_“And you didn’t want to have a proper workshop”, Hannibal had stepped up to his husband on the evening Will had finished patching up the boat, slung both arms around his waist from behind and kissed Will’s neck between the words._

_“Shut up”, Will had half-heartedly tried to shrug him off but covered Hannibal’s hand with his own and squeezed his fingers just the same._

_“No, look at what you did”, Hannibal’s breath had ghosted over his husband’s skin and Will did his best not to turn around and kiss him that very second, “you fixed it, fixed this one too”_

_“It’s just tinkering around; everyone can do that”_

_“But you’re the one who actually did it, chéri”_

_“Don’t start with the French”, Will had not quite managed to turn his head far enough to properly look at his husband. The skin of his neck had grown hot and cold and his breathing had sped up against his will almost at once._

_“Are you sure about that?”, Hannibal had asked when he’d noticed, dirty grin audible in his voice as he’d pressed his body against his husband’s, pushing him against the, now cleaned up, work bench._

_“Course not”, Will had sighed, turned within his husband’s arms and the table, “go on”, the last word had caught in his throat when Hannibal had lifted him onto the bench._

_“Have you not been paying attention”, Hannibal’s voice had remained business-like when he’d slipped his hands down his husband’s sides and legs to his knees, pulling them apart as he’d stepped between them and had held them in place on either side of his hips._

_“Apparently not”, Will’s head had tipped back, when his husband had kissed his neck and he’d laid both hands against Hannibal’s chest._

_“As usual”_

_“Hey”_

_Hannibal had come straight to him after work, still dressed in his about seventeen layers and Will had started working on the buttons of his waistcoat while they’d been talking and had now pulled his husband’s coat a little more roughly off his shoulders than had been strictly necessary._

_“I’m just saying that you seldomly pay attention to what really matters”, Hannibal had said innocently, his words almost entirely slipping by Will as he’d gently dug his fingers into his husband’s thighs, steadily moving upwards, “how sweet”, he had casually undone Will’s fly, words flowing against his husband’s collarbones, “and how talented you are for example”_

_“You’re gonna make me blush”, Will had laughed, sucking in a breath when Hannibal had cupped him through his shorts._

_“I’m planning on doing much more than that, dear Will”_

_Hannibal had pressed the heel of one hand down harder whilst cupping Will’s cheek with his free hand, brushing the pad of his thumb over the corner of his mouth while Will had keened softly, pushing up against his hand. The edges of the benchtop had cut into the palms of his hands when he had clutched onto them with white knuckles, spreading his knees further around his husband without even noticing._

_“Are you now”, he’d barely gotten out, squeezing his eyes shut when Hannibal squeezed him through the steadily dampening cotton, and he’d guided his upper body to lay back against the tabletop with his free hand._

_As soon as Will’s head had come to a rest against the cool surface, Hannibal’s hands had slid beneath the waistband of his husband’s jeans and had tugged them down his legs and to the floor. Before long, the rest of his clothes had joined them on, as had Hannibal’s and Will had been making half impatient, half desperate sounds in the back of his throat while his husband had bent over him and just watched. Will had felt the flush, that had started on his neck some time ago, creep up his cheeks and spread hot over his chest as he had at least attempted not to pant and moan from the barely there sensation of Hannibal’s skin brushing against the insides of his thighs and his breath flowing on his face and upper body as he’d bent further down, his hair coming loose and brushing against Will’s skin._

_“Well, we can tick off making you blush”, he had said in a soft tone of voice, and his husband had groaned, letting go of the table and instead tugging Hannibal’s face towards his own to bring their lips together._

_His husband’s upper body and hips had pressed against his own as he’d let Will pull him close and Will had all but gasped quietly when he felt him press hot against his thigh and higher._

_“Only because you can’t look at someone like a normal person”, he had somehow managed when Hannibal had pulled back, and bent over to grab something off the floor._

_“Tell me then”, Hannibal had reached a hand into the pocket of his long coat and had rummaged around something that had sounded like a plastic bag, and had finally pulled it out again, fingers closed around a bottle, as he folded his coat in half and gave it to his husband to lay beneath his head and back on the cool table top, “how does one normally look at such an exquisite scene?”, he’d asked as he’d popped open the lid without taking his eyes off his husband who’d rolled his eyes._

_“You’re unbelievable”, Will had told the ceiling, exhaling shakily as he’d felt his husband’s fingers wet between his legs and had tilted his hips up when they’d slid up further, “And one of these day”, he had gasped again, his face screwing up and both his hands had flown back to the edge of the workbench again, clutching tight, “I’ll get over your sweettalk and won’t let you get with it”_

_“Do tell me when it comes to that”, Hannibal had laughed softly and had quietly bent forward again as he’d continued to crook and scissor his fingers, brushing his lips against Will’s closed eyelids, who’d jumped the tiniest bit, but had tipped back his head the very next moment, “I’ll need to come up with something new until then”_

_“That would kind of defy – defy the point”, Will could feel the skin of the small of his back and thighs, stick to the tabletop as he’d pulled up his knees, the surface felt cool against the bottom his feet, “wouldn’t it?”_

_He had had not yet opened his eyes, although his lids had fluttered with ever movement of his husband and his breathing had become louder and less even. Before Hannibal, he had never willingly let his eyes close when he’d been with a lover, had always kept them open at least the tiniest fraction to not miss anything they’d might do. But with Hannibal? The thought barely registered._

_“A little”, Hannibal had admitted as he laid both hands against the back of his husband’s knees and nudged his thighs a little further apart as he’d pushed in, “but one can always try to give himself an edge”_

_“An edge ah-”, Will had groaned, fingers desperately grappling along the edge of table, “an edge is the last thing either of us needs- o god”, he’d hissed when his husband’s hips meet the back of his thighs, “give me- give me a second”_

_“Of course,”_

_He’d felt Hannibal’s fingers slowly wander up and down his legs, stroking the sensitive insides of his thighs and almost closing around his ankles. Moments like this he really was thankful for at least not being ticklish – contrary to his husband which still was the funniest thing to Will, but thinking had become increasingly difficult as he’d felt Hannibal hot and firm and undeniably there against and inside him, felt his soft touch and heard his breathing which was only barely troubled. Like he’d just gotten up three flights of stairs and that thought, for some reason, made Will laugh, eyes still closed under his husband’s gaze._

_“Care to enlighten me?”, Hannibal had asked, only slightly bemused and very much trying to stay still and not lose it._

_“Not really”, Will had shaken his head contently, experimentally pushing his hips up and wrapping his legs around the back his husband’s legs when he’d found that he could, “but can you come here?”_

_“Like this?”, Hannibal had carefully slid his hands beneath Will’s back and had pulled him closer to the end of the table he’d been standing in front. He’d leaned over him, his elbows coming to a rest on either side of his husband, his skin sliding against Will’s._

_“Mhm”, Will hummed, slinging both arms around his husband’s neck and holding him close, eyes still closed._

_Hannibal had carefully slid his hands down to Will’s knees and had pushed against them until they’d wrapped around the small of his back instead of his thighs, “okay?”, he’d asked softly, pressing his face against the side of Will’s neck for a moment, before he’d pushed himself up on his forearms._

_“Yeah”, Will had nodded, his mouth falling open when his husband had bottomed out and had slowly thrust back in, brows knitting together, “very -ah!”_

_With every second, every movement and caress of Hannibal the ability to form a coherent sentence had slipped further away from Will and before long he’d been throwing back his head beneath his husband moaning and all but screaming as Hannibal had picked out every spot on his body that made him see stars and forget his name and had relentlessly pressed one after the other, barely making a sound himself all the while but that was normal. The almost grunts that had escaped him from time to time was more than most of his previous lovers had ever managed to coax out of him but compared to Will, no one could really hope to come off very well._

_He had only opened his eyes when he’d been just about to fall apart and his husband had, accent thick in his words and voice strained, told him; “Look at me, chér, show me those beautiful eyes of yours”_

_The moment he’d met his husband’s gaze, he’d had to fight not to have his eyes roll back in his head when Hannibal had given a particularly hard thrust and he’d come, looking straight into Hannibal’s dark eyes._

_He’d held his husband’s gaze as he’d shaken and keened through his orgasm, his toes curling and his mouth opening wide when Hannibal had finished hot between his thighs._

_“I”, Will had gasped as soon as he’d managed to get just about enough air into his lungs, “I have to admit that you were right”_

_“On what account?”, Hannibal had asked, making no move to let go off his husband, “I’m right on so many things, it’s hard to keep track”_

_“You’re a jerk, that’s what you are”_

_“Go on and tell me that you mind”_

_“I never said that”, Will cupped his husband’s face with the palms of his hand and brought it down far enough to kiss his forehead and cheeks, “and I meant that you were right to make me get these workbenches and not the cheap foldable ones; I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t have… endured that”, he’d smiled up at his husband as he’d placed his hand over his thin lips, “and don’t ruin the mood by saying ‘I told you so’”_

_“I would never”, Hannibal’s breath had felt hot against the palm of Will’s hand and Will had laughed at both the sensation and his husband’s words._

_“Of course, not”, he’d slipped his hand to slide into Hannibal’s smooth hair instead and kissed his newly uncovered lips, quietly wondering whether it would be more comfortable to stay like this or finally untangle is aching legs from around his husband._

_In the end, that decision had been taken off his hands as his husband wrapped both arms around his hips and back and simply lifted him off the table. Will had only half-heartedly expected Hannibal to put him down straight away and simply laid his head against his shoulder as Hannibal carried him out of the workshop and into their house through the French windows._

_“We’re gonna make a tradition out of this?”, he’d asked from their bathtub once Hannibal had returned from his second trip from the workshop and dropped their clothes into the hamper before he’d joined his husband in the bath._

_“Celebrating your finished projects by fucking on your workbench?”_

_Will’s arms had snaked around Hannibal’s middle as soon as he’d leaned back against his chest and rested his head against Will’s shoulder._

_His knees had stuck out from the hot water and foam like this but the feeling of Will’s chest slowly rising and falling against him and the sound of his heartbeat had made up for that rather easily._

_“Yeah?”_

_“I wouldn’t mind”, Hannibal had turned his head to kiss the underside of Will’s jaw._

_“You know”, Will had tilted his head to give his husband easier access, “me neither”_

\---

Will’s current project was about as far away from being celebrated as it could be, but Hannibal still looked at him like he’d just hung the moon.

“Are you finished for today?”, he asked as Will stretched his arms over his head, wincing when he straightened his back and shoulders for the first time after several hours of having hunched over the workbench.

“I don’t think I’ll manage much more tonight”, Will awkwardly tried to roll his shoulders but stopped rather quickly.

“Let me see”, he carefully placed his hands on Will’s shoulders, running them over his tense muscles, “what would you say to a hot shower while I prepare dinner?”

“Something really positive”, Will sighed, scrubbing his face with the palms of his hands as he followed his husband back to their house and went up to their bathroom, to let the hot water beat down on him for what felt like half an eternity while his husband vanished in their kitchen.

He had lost track over how many times he’d offered to cook dinner on weeknights, but Hannibal declined every time and at this point, his husband just shrugged and let him be.

“You’re amazing”, he told Hannibal as he sat down opposite him in their dining room, after having been ushered from their kitchen and a wineglass filled with deep red wine had been pushed into his hand.

He had changed into clean jeans and one of Hannibal’s dark blue cashmere pullovers. His bare feet made no sound on the smooth wooden floor and his hair was still slightly wet and dark beneath the dimmed ceiling lights and candlesticks on the table between their plates.

“None of that”, Hannibal waved him off, as Will all but inhaled his salad, “you did not, by any chance, remember to eat anything all day?”

“Not really”, Will forced himself to slow down and actually taste what he was eating, “had some eggs before I went out but after that… to tell you the truth, I barely noticed the time passing until you came”

“I figured”, Hannibal pursed his lips.

“Don’t give me that look”

“I don’t know what you are talking about”, Hannibal sipped his wine, whilst side eying his husband.

“Of course, you don’t”, Will squinted at him through his smeared glasses, “this is delicious by the way”

“It’s a simple salad”

“It’s an amazing salad”

To Hannibal’s great disappointment they had settled for vegetarian dinners on weeknights – well, Will had insisted upon it and had told his husband that he was welcome to eat alone every night of the week if he didn’t agree to it. Neither of them would ever say it out loud- truth be told, neither of them was probably really aware of it - but over the last years it had become increasingly obvious that Will had wrapped Hannibal around his little finger to an almost laughable degree and at this point Hannibal would - and had done so - jump off of cliffs with his husband.

At this point, Will was quietly wondering if there was a limit to things you could put into one salad.

“I suppose you could say that”, Hannibal said, adding, “if it’s the first thing you’d eaten in hours”

“Hannibal”, Will said pleasantly, “shut up and let us enjoy this delicious dish, yeah?”

“You used to be so sweet, you know”, Hannibal said after some time, just before he got up to change the empty plates for the next course.

“When was that supposed to have been?”, Will asked with a soft laugh as he caught his husband’s hand in his as he sat down the new plate in front of him, he winced quietly when he tipped back his head to look up at him, “hm?”

Hannibal’s face softened and he lifted his husband’s hand up to his lips.

“I’ll have another look at that back of yours later, if you don’t mind”

“Thanks”, Will didn’t let go of his husband’s hand as he rounded the table to sit back down and their interlaced fingers laid between them as they finished the main course.

“What would you say if we had our dessert in the living room?”

“I’d ask what had gotten into you”, Will said as he sat down his cutlery beside the emptied plate.

“The sudden need to make sure, my husband was as comfortable as possible, which can be much better accomplished in the living room and if he permitted me to rub his back as he ate”

“Well, that’s only logical then”

“Of course, it is”, Hannibal tapped the back of his husband’s hand with the tip of his index finger, “you go ahead, I’ll be right there”

Will was very aware of his husband’s eyes following him as he made for their living room, trying not to slouch as he walked. Hannibal had been quietly working on improving Will’s posture for years, with not quite as much success to show for it as he’d have liked.

He clenched his teeth as he sat down on the footrest of the armchair his husband liked to lounge in in the evening, half convinced that Hannibal would hear it from the other side of the house if he as much as winced.

“Here you go”, Hannibal pushed a bowl into Will’s hands, a silver spoon sticking out from the gleaming black and white porcelain, “would you mind if I took off your sweater?”

“Your sweater, you mean”, Will raised an eyebrow, balancing the bowl between his knees, as he raised up his arms to let Hannibal pull it over his head and hang it over the back of the armchair.

“I wasn’t going to mention it”

“Already resigned yourself to it?”

“It’s not like I had much of a choice”, Hannibal kissed his husband’s shoulder blade, “sit up straight, love”

Will grinned, his expression changing into something more along the lines of a grimace, as he straightened his back and finally let his gaze drop to the bowl that was slowly cooling down his legs.

“Is this ice cream?”, he asked, almost too shocked to jump when Hannibal placed his warm palms on his shoulders.

“It’s mocha and dark chocolate”

“With a cocoa content of a hundred percent?”, Will asked, the taste of his first spoon still on his tongue.

“Closer to eighty-five percent”

Hannibal pressed his thumbs down on either side of his husband’s neck and his shoulders immediately drew up, spoon clanking against the side of his bowl.

“Will”, he kissed Will’s shoulder again, next to where his fingers were currently feeling for knots and tension, “relax”

“I’m trying”, he hissed, when one thumb came across a kink and pressed right down on top of it, “ow”

Will forced his shoulders back down, grip tight on the bowl in his hands.

“Do you want me to stop?”, Hannibal’s fingers did not stop pressing down as he spoke and with every second, it got better, less painful Will’s muscles felt like they were growing warm.

“No”, he pressed his lips together around the hilt of another spoonful, closing his eyes as the chocolate and coffee melted on his tongue, “I don’t”

The last word had barely left his lips when he bit down on the piece of cutlery with an audible click. Hannibal kissed his back again and kept brushing his lips against his skin from time to time as he worked the remaining kinks out of his husband’s back. Will kept spooning up the best ice-cream he’d ever had and savouring every bite, occasionally clenching his teeth and cursing under his breath.

“My back’s bright red now, isn’t it?”, he asked softly when the movements of his husband’s hands changed, stroking and caressing now instead of pressing down.

“A little”, Hannibal’s arms snaked around Will’s middle and hugged him to his chest, “massages do tend to encourage blood flow”, he kissed the side of Will’s neck.

“One of the many advantages”, Will murmured, “thank you, it’s much better now”

“You’re welcome, love”

Hannibal’s breath brushed warm against his husband’s neck and ear and he felt his skin prickle with goose bumps.

“Won’t you have any?”, Will blinked down at the, now empty, bowl in his hands.

“I’m not really in the mood for chocolate right now”

“I’m honestly too tired for anything that doesn’t involve me just laying there”

“That’s not what I meant, Will”, Hannibal laughed into the curve of his husband’s neck, “I’m perfectly sated in every aspect at the moment”

“Glad to hear that”, Will couldn’t help himself but laugh as well, blindly reaching up with one hand and laying it against Hannibal’s jowl.

“Do you want to go to bed right away?”

“Not yet”, Will murmured, leaning back against his husband, “you still got half of your book left, don’t you?”

“I do”

“Will you read to me?”

“If you want me to”

“Is that even a question?”, Will grinned dopily, face all soft and open.

“Just making conversation”

“Because that’s so hard for you”

Hannibal gave no answer but turned his head to nuzzle into the palm of his husband’s hand, his breath warm and slow against the calloused skin.

“We would have to relocate for that at some point”, he pointed out against Will’s fingers, and, when he merely received a hum as an answer, carefully pulled away from his husband and got to his feet, “I’ll be right back.

He gently pried the bowl from Will’s hands and placed it on the couch table, in the place his novel had just vacated.

Will blinked at him blearily as he returned to his armchair, switched on the lamp behind it and bent forward to press his lips into Will’s, now almost dry, curls.

“I could have gone over there with you, you know”

“I know”

“Of course, you do”

To Hannibal’s great disappointment, a good portion of his husband’s face vanished behind the back of his hand as he yawned, quickly blinking several times in a row to wake himself up a little.

“If you had”, he said simply, putting the book between his right thigh and the arm of the chair before he slid one arm around Will’s waist and the other one beneath his legs and pulled him the couple of inches from the footstool onto his lap, “I couldn’t do this”, he gently moved his husband’s legs so they were hanging of one side of the chair, Will’s upper body naturally turned to rest against Hannibal’s chest and his head to rest against his shoulder.

“I’m way too heavy for this”, Will protested whilst lifting one arm so Hannibal could wrap his own arm around his waist and hold him more securely.

“Nonsense”, he shifted, opening his legs a little more to hold Will more easily on his lap, “you are rather cold though”, he blindly reached behind himself with his free hand, and tugged the sweater they’d discarded earlier, forward and gave it to his husband, who shrugged it on with a barely suppressed shiver and laid his head back against Hannibal’s collarbone.

“Can you even properly see in this light?”, he asked and when he exhaled, his chocolate-sweet breath washed against his husband’s skin.

“I can see plenty”, Hannibal said softy, now reaching for his book and opening it around the bookmark, “you just close your eyes and relax”

“I didn’t want to go to sleep just yet, it’s barely eight”

“So, what, my love?”, Hannibal asked without looking up from the page he was currently scanning, squinting his eyes a little.

Maybe he should rethink his refusal of getting reading glasses.

“Nothing”, Will sighed, snuggling closer, “just tell me, when your arms start aching”

“I will”, Hannibal cleared his throat quietly before he started reading out loud, the words flowing easily over his tongue.

Will, despite his best efforts, eventually gave in and let his eyes slip shut, listening more to his husband’s voice than the words itself and just letting the sound wash over him, as he slowly breathed in and out, arms loosely crossed in front of his stomach. When he finally opened his eyes again, a little after Hannibal had stopped reading, he actually felt less tired, his eyes didn’t feel as dry and his head less like it had been stuffed with cotton.

“Still awake?”, Hannibal asked in a soft voice as he kissed his husband’s forehead again,

“No”, Will smiled blearily and tipped back his head in an attempt to catch Hannibal’s lips in a proper kiss.

“I see”, Hannibal returned the smile, the hand he was holding the, now closed, book with resting against Will’s legs.

“You wanna go for a walk along the water? I think it’s still mild outside”

“Are you sure?”

“I didn’t say it had to be a long walk”, Will pointed out, “but I’ve been inside all day and I guess you’ve been too”

“I was indeed”, Hannibal let go of his husband as he made to get up.

“So?”, he asked looking expectedly at Hannibal and reaching out a hand towards him.

“I guess, I’ll have to change before we go”, he said as he climbed to his feet as well, still grinning at his husband’s sudden eagerness.

“You”, Will caught both his husband’s hand in his, suddenly desperate to get the words out, “you don’t have to though, just because I wanted-”

“I’m happy to go with you”, Hannibal cut him off, “I’ll be right back”

And he was after a couple of minutes, no longer in his suit and tie but a thick sweater and rolled up pants, his and Will’s coats over one arm.

“But you really don’t-”

“I know this is entirely futile”, Hannibal interrupted his husband again, “but you have to stop worrying so much, I’ll tell you if I feel harassed”

“Okay”, Will followed him out, grabbing a torch from the shelf beside their front door.

It really was quite mild, a gentle breeze moved through the long grass as they crossed over to the water, through the soft, pale sand in the twilight.

“It really is beautiful out here”, Will said softly as they came to a stop right at the edge of the water, the first little waves washing ice-cold over their toes.

“May I point something out?”

Will turned his head to look up into his husband’s brown eyes, raising an eyebrow; “Go ahead”

“It’s not quite as beautiful as you”

“You”, Will took a deep breath, turning back to look out over the foaming waves, “can be such a sap”

“I am aware”, Hannibal slung one arm around Will’s waist and hugged him close, his hair blew across his face and his thin lips were pulled up in a bright smile, “that doesn’t make it less true in any case”

Will balked out a laugh, squeezing his eyes shut as he shook his head.

“Do you want to go left or right?”, he finally asked, pressing a quick kiss against the side of Hannibal’s jaw.

“Right, I think”, Hannibal said after a short consideration

“Okay”

“And Will?”, he added after they’d taken a couple of steps.

“Yes?”

“One could argue-“

“Oh, here we go”

“One could argue”, Hannibal repeated, ignoring his husband’s quip, “that the person cherishing statements such as that, could in turn be considered, a, as you phrased it, sap”

“One could definitely do that”, Will agreed with a grin, softly knocking his shoulder into Hannibal’s as they walked, “doesn’t really do anything for either of us though”

“And does either of us really care about that?”

“Not in the slightest”

“I should say so”, Hannibal said with a contended sigh, as their feet sunk into the wet sand and water with every step beneath the stars that were just coming up on the ink blue night sky, “I should say so, my love”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...this ended up being very long - I hope you don't mind.
> 
> Thank you so very much for reading and commenting - honestly, if you had not told me, you enjoyed this silly thing, I would not have added a second, never mind a third chapter. (I might still add some more, if you're still interested and I can come up with something)
> 
> Lots of love and I hope you are all doing well and are both heathy and not too stressed out about the current situation <3 
> 
> We'll get through this

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, one of the very first things I thought whilst watching that series was, that Hannibal would undoubtingly sooner or later contract gout or something similiar if he kept sticking to that diet and, well, that's what came out of it - I hope you enjoyed it; soft, sweet and kinda stupid like always.
> 
> (I might add an additional chapter or two, continuing with the fluff, if you'd be interested)
> 
> As always; lots of love and thank you for reading <3


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